Page 53 of Destroyer

Almost everyone laughed. Grey was notoriously arrogant. Extremely smart and cunning, but entirely lacking in personality and generally disliked.

Ru, buoyed by this reception, continued. “I am not saying the artifact is alive, nor am I arguing conscious thought. What Iwillattempt to prove is that the artifact — its physical makeup notwithstanding — was constructed for a purpose, and whatever that purpose was must be inherently mechanized into the thing itself, enabling the artifact to act without orders or guidance. However, such advanced engineering would be beyond our ability to identify it. Beyond, even, our understanding. The artifact must be, for lack of a better word… a magical object.”

The room was deathly silent for a moment. Then someone snickered, muffled, and another small laugh broke free. Ru set her jaw. They could mock her as much as they liked. It was the only explanation for the artifact. And more than that, it was a chance for her to finally reclaim her dignity in academia.

The artifact had come to her, whether by fate or by chance, and she wouldn’t take that for granted. She could use the artifact for progress and the advancement of scientific thought. It could change the world. And most desperately, most urgently, she needed to know what had happened at the Shattered City and why.

Obralle, who was still hovering near the edge of the podium, stepped forward and asked, close enough to the speaking horn so that her voice carried through the room, “Is this your hypothesis, then? To prove that the artifact is… magic?”

“Yes, it is.” Ru felt utterly confident in her hypothesis. It would sound like madness to everyone there, but she knew it was true. She only had to prove it.

“I see,” said Professor Obralle. “And once you determine whether it is magic, do you aim to seek out its purpose?”

“Of course,” said Ru. “Although, over the course of study, I may discover outliers or contradictions which steer my research in a new direction. But if my hypothesis is proven, then the natural next step would be to seek the source of the stone’s magic. And, from there, to determine its purpose.”

The low murmur of the room, the half-laughs and whispers, grew to a low roar. Ru tried to drown it out, tried not to let shame and humiliation drown her. She was right. She knew it. She only had to prove it.

Obralle smiled hesitantly, her eyes slightly pained. “A clear plan of action, then. Thank you, Delara. You may sit.”

The deliberation continued for another three hours. The mockery and jeering that followed Ru’s presentation was brief, the topic of the artifact too grim to maintain jokes for more than a few moments.

Sitting with Archie and Gwyneth, waiting for everyone to argue their point as the morning wore on, Ru realized that she had far underestimated the ability of academics to talk about themselves and their ideas. She thought maybe a dozen would stand up as volunteers, no more than twenty, butthis? It seemed as if the entire Tower was vying for the post of head researcher.

It made her oddly jealous, possessive of the artifact in a way that felt foreign to her. But the artifactwashers. It didn’t want anyone else.

She was so wrapped up in thinking about the artifact that she didn’t notice Gwyneth had left her seat until her friend appeared at the lectern.

Only a handful of academics were now awaiting their turn, and everyone in the room was restless with impatience.

“I don’t have a hypothesis,” said Gwyneth matter-of-factly, as soon as Obralle turned the speaking horn over to her. She ignored the ensuing grumbles, flicking her hair over one shoulder. “I only have a question. Have any of you truly considered the fact that Delara is theonlyperson who survived the explosion at the dig site?”

There was an irritable rumble of assent.

Ru leaned toward Archie, whose eyebrows were raised so high they threatened to merge with his light hair. “What's she doing?” she hissed. But he only patted her arm, distracted, listening to what Gwyneth said next.

“So I suppose you’ve also considered,” Gwyneth continued in her warm, engaging voice, her large eyes wide with animation, “that Delara might be the only person alive who is immune to the artifact’s destructive capabilities.” She paused, staring around at the seated academics, a fearless challenge. Despite her small frame and doll-like features, she radiated confidence. “And Isupposeyou’ve all weighed the danger of being stuck in a room with an explosive object all day against your eagerness to prove yourself smarter than everyone here, correct?”

She smiled sweetly, tossed her hair, and descended from the podium, her skirts bouncing as she went.

Archie punched her arm as she slid back into her chair, grinning. “Well said, Gwyn.”

“Thanks,” said Ru. “But these idiots will do anything for academic prestige.”

“If you say so,” said Gwyneth, shrugging. “But I think I’ve put an end to it.”

Ru opened her mouth to protest, but even as she did, the remaining academics in line at the lectern hesitated, then scattered, returning to their seats. Gwyneth beamed.

Professor Cadwick, seeing that no one was left to argue their point, approached the lectern. “It is time now for the vote,” he said. “I will read out, in order, the names of all those who have put themselves forward for the role of head researcher of the artifact.”

Ru looked around, expecting to see eager faces and jovial banter, the usual competitive academic behavior. Instead, everyone around her shared nervous glances. Some faces had even gone pale.

“Does anyone wish to withdraw their name at this time?” said Professor Cadwick. The gathered academics continued to exchange looks of unease, but nobody spoke up.

Then someone from across the room raised a hand. Ru recognized her as a third-year named Pip Williams. She was first in her class and had been one of the first to line up at the lectern.

“Professor,” she said, “I’d like to officially request that, as a matter of respect for the harrowing experiences she has endured thus far, we vote on Delara first.”

Professor Cadwick frowned slightly, clearly irked by the unexpected request. “Fine.” He leaned forward so that his lips were nearly touching the speaking horn. “All those in favor of Ruellian Delara as head researcher, in charge of studying the artifact, raise your hands.”

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